


Home to Peace

by Michelle Christian (movies_michelle)



Category: I Spy (1965)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-06
Updated: 2011-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:39:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/movies_michelle/pseuds/Michelle%20Christian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all need a place to recharge, a place to breakdown. Written for Dorinda for Yuletide 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home to Peace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dorinda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorinda/gifts).



"So, you'll be in at 2:00 p.m. on Wednesday?" his mom asked for the third time.

"Yeah, Mom, I promise. You know I wouldn't miss your sweet potato pie," Scotty said, smiling into the phone.

Here he was, sitting in a warm, sun-bathed hotel room in Mexico, negotiating a trip to cold, gray Philadelphia. Most people would think he was nuts. Scotty knew his mom's green beans alone were worth the trip.

"And Mr. Robinson won't mind taking you to the airport? He's not going to be late for his own family gathering?"

"No, Ma, he's fine with getting me to the airport. And he's staying in Acapulco for the rest of the week, then meeting me in Hong Kong after New Year's."

There was a pause, and all of Scotty's systems went on alert.

"But isn't he going to spend Christmas with his family?" his mother said, obviously horrified.

"No, but he likes it here in--"

"Alexander, let me talk to him," she interrupted firmly. Scotty knew that voice: It was the Voice of Mother, not to be defied.

"Yes, ma'am." Scotty gave in, knowing futility when he saw it. He looked over at Kelly, carefully typing away at their report at the room's only desk. "Kel, my mom wants to talk to you."

Kelly looked up, surprised, and pointed at himself. When Scotty shook the receiver at him again, he came over, nervously looking at the phone as if it might explode in his face.

Clearing his voice, Kelly took the phone. "This is Kelly Robinson."

The pause on this end lengthened and the confusion on Kelly's face increased. "No, ma'am, I don't mind you asking. I don't have any family-- No, ma'am, my parents died a number of years ago, so I'm used to-- Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am. Really, Mrs. Scott, it's not necessary-- Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am."

It was like watching Kelly on the court without being able to see his opponent. And this opponent was obviously winning.

"All right, Mrs. Scott. Thank you. Do you want to speak to Alexander again? All right. Thank you, again."

Kelly hung up and turned a bemused look on Scotty. "Apparently, I'm spending Christmas at your house."

***

Two days, several calls, and a substantial amount of money later, Kelly and Scotty were on their way from Acapulco to Philadelphia, by way of D.C. Nothing formal, no planned meetings or assignments, but they had to stop and pick up some winter clothes which were being shipped from storage. Most tennis bums spent the winter months following the jet set to sunnier climes, including Acapulco, and none of their current clothes were really appropriate for December in Philadelphia.

They flew out of D.C. on Christmas Eve, and as he settled into his seat, a cocktail in his left hand and a stewardess walking back and forth near his right, Kelly found himself nervous as hell. It wasn't as if he were being taken home to meet a girlfriend's parents--except, in a way, it was just like that. Scotty and he lived in each others' back pockets all day, every day. More than that, their lives depended on each other, and their particular working relationship relied on the two of them being relaxed and totally comfortable with each other. Scotty's mom was very important to him, understandably, and if Kelly didn't make a good impression and she didn't like him, that could make the living and working arrangements very uncomfortable in the future. It didn't seem to matter to his nerves that he knew he could and had charmed women on six continents, from royalty to peasants and every station in between.

On the other hand, he kept catching himself smiling for reasons that had nothing to do with the pretty blonde who kept offering to get him a blanket or a pillow. Kelly wouldn't have told Scott, because Scott wouldn't have wanted to hear it and Kelly wouldn't have liked to say it out loud, but he hadn't wanted to spend another Christmas on his own, in a warm and sunny climate surrounded by women in bikinis. Normally, he would have found that an ideal way to pass some downtime, but it had been so long since anyone had asked in a concerned tone what he was doing for the holidays. It had been a long time between home cooked meals and the warmth only a home, not a hotel, could provide. It had been a long time since anyone cared enough to offer it to him.

He wouldn't pass it up for all the starlets and debutantes in the world.

***

Scotty was going to smack Kelly upside the head if he didn't stop grinning like an idiot.

He hadn't been home for two years, since just before he and Kelly were partnered, and he missed his mom terribly. He was looking forward to seeing her and smelling the familiar scents of her cooking filling the old, familiar apartment. He wanted to see the neighborhood, how it had changed and how it had stayed the same, even in the brief time he'd been gone. But as the plane circled over Philadelphia, waiting to land, he grew more and more tense.

As much as he wanted to see his mother, he dreaded facing her. She'd never said a word against his apparent profession, never chastised him for wasting his education and hard work, never made it seem like she was disappointed in him for choosing to follow a tennis player around the globe instead of getting a teaching position or doing something world-changing and meaningful. Never made him feel guilty for having sold out and thrown away everything he'd learned and accomplished.

Which just made Scotty feel all the worse, no matter that none of it was true. All she knew was the cover; all she saw was her son being a white man's servant. He couldn't tell her it was a lie, that he was actually doing important work, that he was Kelly's equal in all things. He couldn't tell her, and he didn't want to see her when all she knew was the lie.

Except now, apparently, he was going to have to face her, and with Kelly in tow. He had no worry that Kelly wouldn't win her over pretty quickly, but... His mom wasn't always where he thought she would be, and he didn't always know which way she'd land.

He looked out the window as he felt the landing gear go down and click into place. Jo was going to be gone for this visit, which made him sad since he'd not seen his sister for a very long time. However, she'd gotten an invitation from a friend to spend the winter holidays with her family in Florida, and it wasn't hard to figure out why that sounded more appealing than slogging through the snow and slush of Philadelphia for two weeks.

So, much though he'd love to see her, he couldn't help feeling a little relieved. She was far more likely to make comments and ask questions his mother would consider the height of rudeness. And while he had no doubt Kelly could have charmed Jo, as well. Scotty just wasn't sure he wanted Kelly being that charming to his sister.

At the very least, he was going to short sheet Kelly's bed.

By the time they arrived at his mother's door, he'd already warned Kelly of two things: His mother was going to fuss, and she would have made them a "little something to eat," despite his telling her that they would eat on the plane.

The smells drifting out into the hallway, enveloping Scotty in a warmth the furnace couldn't begin to match and nearly stopping him in his tracks, confirmed the latter point even before the door opened, a split-second before Scotty could figure out how to knock when they both had their arms filled with packages.

"I was so worried about you boys," was the first thing his mother said after she stepped aside for them, ushering them in and helping them off with their coats and settling their bundles safely away from the coatrack. The fretting quickly melted away like the snow dripping off their outerwear when she turned and looked at Scotty with so much happiness she practically glowed.

Ever since his last growth spurt, he'd had this weird feeling when hugging his mom. She was the strongest person he knew, and she could cow a man twice her size with a look, but she felt far too delicate in his arms, a delicate bird he could crush if he weren't careful. But the bird's wings were still strong, as he discovered when she hugged him so fiercely he thought she would never let him go. He wondered why he would ever want her to.

Stepping back reluctantly, Scotty turned them both to face Kelly, who was standing just inside the door, smiling and looking unusually nervous.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Kelly Robinson. Kel, this is my mom, Althea Scott."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Robinson," mom said, smiling at him politely, as she sized him up.

Kelly's smile widened as he stepped forward. "Please, Mrs. Scott, call me Kelly. It's an honor to meet you." He took her hand, leaning over to kiss it in the continental style. Scotty smiled even as he rolled his eyes.

"Now, don't go giving my mom the idea that you're a gentleman or anything," Scotty teased, pleased to see the smile on his mother's face warming as she blushed at the gesture. "You're making me look bad."

"I am always a gentleman," Kelly insisted. "I don't know what would make you think otherwise."

To Scotty's surprise, his mother reached out and hit him. "Now, don't be rude, Alexander. And both of you, come in and sit down, you must be exhausted after all that traveling. I made you a little something to eat before you boys head to bed."

Her "little something" filled the dining room table, and they eagerly ate, despite a lack of appetite. Scotty filled himself up with familiar tastes and enjoyed the way Kelly seemed to turn into a delighted child. A delighted, starving child.

"Don't they ever feed you after those tournaments?" his mother asked, obviously pleased as she served Kelly another helping of potatoes.

"Well, yes, but it's terrible stuff. Horrible. I never get to eat anything as great as this, ma'am," Kelly said with a sincere and blinding smile.

"My son ought to be taking better care of you," she said, throwing a disapproving look at Scotty as she put the bowl down next to him so he could serve himself.

"I try, Mom, but this guy is a handful," Scotty protested. "You wouldn't believe the trouble he gets into on his own."

Kelly looked shocked. "That's terrible, fibbing to your mother like that. I never get myself into trouble. I will admit to, a time or two, encountering difficulties not of my own making..."

"Is that what you like to call it..."

As they continued going back and forth, Scotty looked at his mother out of the corner of his eye. She was smiling in amusement at them, but especially at Kelly. Oh, yeah, he'd made another conquest.

***

Kelly felt at the center of a small, warm whirlwind the rest of the evening, cosseted and buffeted at the same time, as Mrs. Scott bustled back and forth from kitchen to table, then from table to the back rooms to make sure everything was ready for them. They were settled into Scotty's old room shortly after dinner, Scotty getting his original bed and Kelly getting his long absent brother's. The trophies and awards Scotty had won in high school filled the room. There was little that marked the presence of the brother, who Scotty never talked about.

Kelly's time in the army had taught him to grab sleep where and when he could, and his time as a spy had certainly reinforced that. Still, sleeplessness was no stranger, usually prompted by pain and upset, leading to a restlessness that wouldn't let him lie still. Now, though, full and content and not remotely worried, he still couldn't keep his eyes closed, and he decided to wander out into the living room to spare Scotty his tossing and turning.

The tree lights had been left on, partly because of the season, but mostly as an aid to the stranger now sharing Mrs. Scott's small home, should he need to get up in the night. Now he found it one more comfort among many, bathing in the warmth of home and memories, even if they were not his own.

Looking around the room in the low light, he again took in all the pictures of Scotty and his family, all the little knickknacks and keepsakes tidily arranged around the room. He'd always enjoyed traveling, had been doing it since he was a child, but he hadn't realized exactly how much he'd missed this. Missed having things around him that had history, rather than the bland, tasteful decorations of a hotel room. Missed feeling a space filled with affection, rather than the impersonal feeling of oft-changed beds, no matter how comfortable, a space filled with the sense of home that could only come when people really lived in that space, loving where they were and who they were with.

Plus, room service was nice, but it couldn't replace the wonderfulness of a mother's cooking.

A small picture of Scotty as a boy caught his eye, so he picked it up for a better look. All knees and elbows, young Alexander Scott looked out at the world solemnly, dressed in a starched white shirt and uncomfortable looking black suit, obviously not happy with the situation, but bearing with it for the sake of the occasion, whatever it was. He had an adorable air of seriousness, and Kelly decided he had to ask what the occasion had been in the morning.

***

Scotty watched from the shadows as Kelly looked at the tree and around the living room. Scotty had been mesmerized by the lights as a child. No matter how rough times had gotten, there had always been a tree no matter how mangled, always lights, no matter how many burned out. It was the one luxury on which his dad had insisted, no matter how many extra hours he had to work. And Scotty had looked forward to it every year, gazing up at those lights and that same Christmas star, thinking the star over Bethlehem couldn't have been any prettier.

But Kelly wasn't looking at just the lights. He seemed to devour everything around him, the lights, the tree, the living room. He looked hungry and awkward, as if he'd been standing out in the cold and looking into a warm house for so long he didn't know what to do now he was on the right side of the glass.

Scotty wanted to go to him, to hug him and hold him like his father had done with him after a nightmare, to let him know he wasn't alone in the dark. His mother's kind hands had always soothed, but his father's broad ones had always felt so strong, so safe. As if nothing could get past them to hurt him.

Scotty didn't go to him, though. It was a private moment, and Kelly wouldn't have thanked him for it. Instead, Scotty turned back to the bedroom and lay down again and dreamed strange dreams of snow that glinted like diamonds and firing guns that shattered ornaments into a thousand tiny stars.

***

"Kelly?"

He turned away from the window towards the quiet voice. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Scott. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Not at all. When you get to be my age, you find that sleeping through the night is more luxury than routine." She walked to the refrigerator and pulled out some juice, putting it back after offering some to Kelly. "I hope your bed isn't too uncomfortable. It's been a number of years since anyone's used it."

"Oh, not at all. It's fine, ma'am, just fine," he assured her, sitting down at the kitchen table after she took a chair. "I just needed a little water. I think the jet lag got to me, for once," Kelly lied smoothly.

"Alexander's fine, though?"

"Alexander could sleep through World War III," he said with a smile.

"Let me get you some pie," she said, getting up again.

"That's not necessary--"

"Nonsense. You're skin and bones. And it'll help you sleep better."

Kelly thought of his aunt standing in her own kitchen, fixing a snack for anyone who stood still too long, and surrendered to the inevitable. "Thank you."

They sat in the quiet, Kelly enjoying his sweet potato pie and Mrs. Scott enjoying watching him. It was comfortable and warm and everything Kelly rarely let himself miss. However, the spy business had taught him to notice when someone wanted something from him, and he braced for it as he enjoyed his food. He considered maneuvers and strategies to get himself out of this kitchen and away from answers he was sure he wouldn't want or be able to give.

"Kelly," she began, quiet and deadly, "my son isn't just a trainer. He's something else he won't tell me." They weren't questions.

Kelly had faced down torturers and Mata Haris of every shape and coloring. He'd won against agents and bullies and intellects greater than his own. He'd been beaten, manipulated, and seduced until his brains melted out of his ears and still not given up his knowledge. But he was terrified of this small, determined woman, sitting in her poor, neat kitchen in her poor, run down neighborhood, looking at him with serious, determined eyes.

It had been too long since he'd looked into a mother's eyes. No one in training taught you how to resist a mother's worry, and he had no defense against it. Kelly would have considered suggesting it for the curriculum, but he didn't think there was an effective countermeasure.

"He's also my friend," Kelly said easily, and got up to put his plate in the sink to reinforce the deflection he knew wouldn't work.

"I know my son," she went on, obviously deciding it wasn't even worth pretending they didn't both know what she was talking about, "so I know he wouldn't do anything wrong."

Kelly turned back towards her, knowing she deserved to be faced, no matter how hard he found it.

"I don't need to know what it is he's doing. I just need to know... I need you to tell me..." She looked up at him and stared straight in his eyes, obviously as frightened of the answer as he was frightened of her questions, but unwilling to back down. "Is it dangerous?"

Kelly held her eyes and thought for a moment. He thought about what she wanted to hear, and what she deserved to know. He thought about what Scotty would want him to say, and what the department wouldn't want him to. He thought about what his own mother, if she'd lived to see him grow up and set out on this path, would have wanted to know. "Sometimes," he finally said.

She closed her eyes and took another deep breath.

"But he's good at what he does," Kelly said, in the same quiet, matter-of-fact tone. "And it's important."

She opened her eyes again and looked back at him. Pinned him and compelled him. "You look after him," she said. Again, it wasn't a question.

"I try," he said earnestly. "And he looks after me."

That seemed to relax her, at least a little. "Thank you, Kelly."

Kelly waited for a few moments, wondering if there was more, but Mrs. Scott sat at her table, sipping her juice, seemingly lost in thought. Apparently all she'd ever needed to know was that her son did something worth doing. And he wasn't alone.

Just what mothers were supposed to worry about.

He turned back to the sink and rinsed his dish off, turning around just as she stood up to bring her own glass over. He took it from her and rinsed it out before setting it to the side.

Quietly, they walked back out into the living room, still bathed in the light of the tree. Kelly paused, looking around the living room again. Mrs. Scott stopped next to him.

"You've been alone a long time, haven't you?" she said. Kelly looked at her, surprised and warmed to see some of the affection he'd only so far seen directed at Scotty shining clearly in her eyes.

Kelly thought about it. "Not anymore," he said, matching her tone, more quietly than they'd spoken in the kitchen, as the dark demanded.

"I'm glad," she said sincerely. "I'm glad Alexander brought you with him this time, too. You'll have to come back again."

Kelly was surprised again, and took a moment before he said, "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"Good." She started to walk back towards her bedroom before he called out to her again.

"Mrs. Scott, I was wondering about this picture of Alexander. When was it taken?" he asked, pointing to the photograph he'd been looking at earlier where it was sitting on the end table.

She was far enough away into the hallway that the lights didn't show her face, so all he had to go by was her voice, softer even than before, when she said, "He was fourteen when that was taken. It was right before his father's funeral."

Kelly was ashamed that he hadn't guessed it, that he'd thought about how sweet and cute Scotty looked, that he'd brought up painful memories for this lady. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Scott" he said, unsure of what else to say.

"As you said, it was a long time ago." The voice was still quiet, but sounded stronger again, like nothing would break it. He could see her well enough to tell when she turned back towards her room, silently closing the door behind her.

Kelly stood in the light of the tree for a while longer before going in to bed.

***

Christmas Day came and went with a whirl of activity and presents. Scotty had brought all the gifts, big and small, he'd bought for his mother over the course of the year, the ones he'd not sent to her from wherever they'd been. She was pleased and proud of all her gifts, such fancy things from all over the world, but she seemed the most appreciative of the jewelry box, hand-carved and chased with silver. Kelly had picked it out for her and given it to Scotty to take home with him long before he'd known he was going himself.

"Your mom obviously deserves a present, putting up with a son like you," he'd said when he handed it to Scotty several weeks before.

Kelly, for his part, seemed particularly moved and at a loss for words when Mom gave him his own present, a knitted scarf of a warm brown color.

"Really, Mrs. Scott, you didn't have to," he said haltingly as he smiled at her.

"Nonsense. I know you two like to go to all these places where it's warm, so you won't need it much, but it must be chilly some places at night. You have to take care of yourself," she chided him. Scotty grinned at Kelly as he wrapped the scarf around his neck and posed for them.

"Also, you can stop with all that 'Mrs. Scott' nonsense," she continued. "You just call me mom."

Scotty was slightly startled himself, but it was nothing compared to what his partner felt, judging from the stunned look on his face. "Mrs. Scott..."

"Hush, now. Let me look at you," she said, and proceeded to adjust his scarf.

The smile that broke out on Kelly's face, Scotty decided, was worth any amount of gold.

After presents, Mom took them to church with her, and it all ended with dinner.

Kelly never took the scarf off.

***

 _Three years later_

Scotty thought he would lose it. He needed to put Kelly back together, and he had no idea how. He'd seen his friend depressed, seen him brought low by a woman and the job and all the complications that arose between the two of them. Kelly's tailspins were spectacular and deep, and it sometimes took him a while to come out of them. They always alternated between making Scotty want to protect him, and kick him, depending on how long they went on. This, though, this was different. He'd never seen Kelly quite like this.

He'd never seen Kelly shamed.

Troy had so readily talked about finding Scotty a new partner, had been so quick to throw Kelly away, as if he were nothing, Scotty knowing the entire time that Troy had manipulated the whole thing. Scotty had hit the punching bag because he knew that if he hit Troy, he wouldn't stop with a punch. He had a million scenarios in his head of how he could get away with it, kill the bastard, right in the middle of headquarters.

When Kelly had hit Troy, Scotty had stepped aside, his anger still boiling. Kelly had earned that punch, and Scotty wouldn't have stood in the way for the world. It seemed to help, to work as something of a catharsis for Kelly, and that, along with his chance to stand up to his torturers again, had obviously set him towards getting better.

After that, Scotty had kept an eye on Kelly, watching to see if he was as strong as he claimed, as healed as he seemed. Their assignments ranged from milk runs to the complete emotional ringer that was Sam. That one Scotty couldn't lay entirely at Troy's door, though he was fairly certain he was behind the insistence that Kelly break her.

Sam had been the one holding the knife that time, though Kelly had handed it to her. When it came down to it, maybe it just meant spies shouldn't get involved with each other. They were all too messed up to have normal relationships with people outside of their line of work, and even more messed up with each other. The logical conclusion, of course, was that they were all destined to be alone. Scotty wouldn't, couldn't, accept that, not for himself, or Kelly. But that wasn't really his trouble now. Kelly said he was fine, but Scotty could still see the cracks, see the uncertainty and skittishness in his eyes when he thought Scotty wasn't looking. On some level he was still ashamed, still afraid, and his shame and fear had always been less for himself than for what that fear, that "cowardice," might mean to Scotty.

Scotty wasn't sure how to fix that, other than with time, but he did agree with the doctor that Kelly needed to relax, to recharge. To remember that their bond went beyond the job, and that Scotty trusted him with more than just his life.

So here Scotty was, standing in Troy's office again, this time alone. All the anger that had been building for months, bubbling just under the surface, started to roil again, as if someone had suddenly turned up the heat. Scotty could feel it hitting his bloodstream, making him almost giddy, like he was in the middle of a job.

"What are you doing here, Scotty? I told you I'd give you your new assignment tomorrow," Troy said. Scotty looked at him stonily, seeing the dark purple bruise Kelly had given him, clear as day, in his mind, blossoming along his jaw and then fading for months.

"I think it would be an excellent idea, sir," Scotty said calmly, looking at the desk, "if you would find a new assignment for us somewhere near Philadelphia."

Troy was quiet for a moment. "I see." He paused again, then said with that familiar, genial sneer, "I wasn't aware you were the one giving the orders about assignments now."

Scotty stared at the letter opener on Troy's desk. It was a miniature scimitar, part of a set gratefully given by some Arab potentate for the work performed by one of Troy's teams. Scotty had known both of the men.

"No, sir, no orders. Just strongly suggesting an idea that would be helpful to the body and soul of your agents." Scotty knew that respectful words and tone were important to men like Troy. Troy wouldn't hear anything beneath it, and if he did, wouldn't care, as long as it looked like what he wanted it to.

Scotty prayed he wasn't in the business long enough to confuse appearances with substance.

"Look, Scott, I know he's had a tough time of it lately -- which is the only reason he's not up been brought up on charges yet--"

Scotty could feel Troy's throat beneath his hands. Troy was an athletic man who worked in the gym regularly, but he wasn't a field agent, and Scotty knew he could beat him for speed and strength. It wouldn't take much to grab the knife, reach over the desk, and end this meeting now. He and Kelly would be like smoke in the wind by the time anyone knew something was wrong.

He could see them on the run, see them out of here, out of this job, away from this life as clearly as he'd seen the scars on Kelly's back that morning as they were dressing. Could feel Troy go quiet and cold underneath his hands, as surely as he had felt the heat pouring off Kelly in a fever not one week before. He wanted to feel Troy's throat in his hands as he squeezed as much as he'd wanted to reach out and touch Kelly, not as a trainer or as a partner, nor anything else they were or could be together. And he was just as certain now as he'd been then that reaching out the way he wanted to would destroy them both.

"--but I have no intention of mollycoddling him--"

"Because, you see, sir," Scotty went on in the same tone, but louder, as if Troy hadn't said a word, "body and soul are being held together by a cat's cradle at the moment, and the strings are unraveling." Troy stopped talking and finally seemed to be listening, so Scotty took a deep breath and said more quietly, "Not looking for extended downtime. Not even looking for the thirty days we were promised and never saw." Troy's secretary was gone for the day, Scotty knew that, and Scotty knew subtler ways to kill a man, but the letter opener was so tempting. "Just looking for something a little more quiet for a few days near Philadelphia. I'd think your two best agents were worth that, at least," he finished, trying to confine his bitterness to his words, and still staring at the last glint of the sun on the ostentatious blade.

"Two best, huh?" Troy was not the subtle type. "Well, I guess for my two best," he added a slightly mocking twist to the sneer that let Scotty know as much as the words that he'd won, "I could find something." Troy looked speculatively at Scotty for a few moments, then smiled a mean little smile. "Of course, it will cost you."

Scotty turned toward the door in lieu of smashing Troy's face in, with only a slightly wistful look at the scimitar. "I suspected," he said as he closed the door behind him.

***

Kelly sighed as he settled back into the seat of the cab. "Just a few more minutes," he said with glee, "and we shall partake of your mother's excellent pie."

Scotty smiled. "Now what makes you think she'd have pie for a waster like you?"

"I am no waster, sir!" Kelly protested. "I am her darling boy and deserve every bit of loving she heaps upon me."

"You're a bum who couldn't even beat that Swede a couple of weeks ago," Scotty pointed out.

"You're just jealous because you know Mom likes me better," Kelly said smugly.

Scotty didn't disagree. "She'll probably even give you the biggest piece of her sweet potato pie," he moped.

"Mmm, not before the collard greens."

Scotty made the expected face at that. "You can have some of mine."

"No, no, sir. You're a growing boy, you need your greens." Mmm, he could smell them now, even miles away.

Scotty let out a laugh, like he couldn't hold it in any more. "You eat Mom's cooking like you normally do, you're going to be a growing boy, too, from side to side," Scotty said, holding his hands out several feet from each other.

Kelly grinned at him and turned to look out the window, watching the city go by as they neared Scotty's old neighborhood.

He knew Scotty was still worried about him. He tried to hide it, bury it under their usual way with each other, but Scotty looked at him, sometimes, watched him like a mother hen, if only when he thought Kelly wouldn't see. It warmed him even as he had wondered himself if he could get beyond the last few months.

The nightmares he'd been having since his capture seemed to be fading. It was over a week since the last one, and it hadn't been nearly as intense as the previous ones, the ones he'd endured before facing his torturer again. He had faced the man, and he'd won. He'd won against his torturer and his own people -- and Scotty had won with him.

They'd come more regularly in the weeks after Sam's departure, but he shied away from thinking about that. About her.

Right now he was more worried about Scotty than himself. Kelly was pissed at Troy, but it was a kind of anger that came with long knowledge. It wasn't as if he hadn't known that he was dispensable. It hadn't helped to know that Troy had not only expected him to cave, but counted on it, but that, too, was the nature of the business. Everyone broke at some point. Everyone.

He'd even started to come to grips with the fact that he hadn't let Scotty down. It wasn't easy. He was sure, at some point, he'd feel that cold sweat of panic, wonder if he could back up his partner the way he needed to. Maybe not the next time they were in a fire fight, but sometime.

Kelly figured he was standing on his own feet pretty well, though. He wasn't under any illusions as to who had orchestrated their little hometown visit; he didn't know how Scotty had pulled it off, he was just glad he had. Kelly knew he could still use a little downtime, and this milk run promised a chance to spend a little quality time with Mom and Jo.

He also knew he wasn't the only one who needed it. Kelly faced forward and looked at Scotty out of the corner of his eye.

"Did I tell you about the time this kid in my neighborhood, Rudy, got stuck in his refrigerator?" Scotty asked, and launched off into his story, Kelly smiling and listening to him with half an ear.

Scotty's cracks were showing almost worse than Kelly's. Scotty had been so angry with Troy, had felt betrayed on such a basic level, and Kelly hadn't known what to do about it. How do you release someone else's anger? How do you even let him know that it's okay to be angry, especially when that someone could kill another person with little effort? But there were ways of letting that steam off safely, and Kelly figured Scotty had plenty of pressure building up in that head of his.

Because, of course, Scotty never let it out. Scotty got upset about something, or someone, and he just shut down. He took care of everyone around him, but bottled his own anger and frustration up as tight as he could, as if he were afraid of what he might do, otherwise. Scotty didn't seem to like messy emotion, which seemed strange to Kelly, who knew he was the messiest cat around.

What Scotty needed, Kelly decided as they pulled onto a familiar street, even more than he himself did, was a home-cooked meal and a hug from his mom and sister. He needed that grounding to know what they were fighting for. That it wasn't for Troy or Rusty or any of their other bosses. That it was for this, and this was worth it.

***

Scotty knew that Kelly knew their being in Philadelphia wasn't completely serendipitous. As long as they both pretended that neither knew, they didn't have to talk about it. So, since they were apparently here on such short notice anyway, Scotty had decided that they would really surprise his mother by just showing up on her doorstep without even calling first. He wanted to see her face light up when she saw her boys.

When they got to her apartment door, Scotty knocked then threw his arm around Kelly's shoulder as they posed for her with big grins on their faces as they waited for her to open it.

"Alexander!" she said in happiness a moment after she appeared.

Neither Scott nor Kelly could hold their pose for more than a second, and when the "Hi, mom"s and the hugs and kisses and "You're too thin!"s had finished, Scotty had time to process that his mother had looked happy to see him, if oddly reserved.

And not nearly as surprised as she should have been.

"Why didn't you boys tell me you were coming," she scolded them as she lead them over to the dining room table.

"We thought we would surprise you," Scotty said, still grinning.

"Well, you certainly did," she said, though still with that odd reticents.

"Where's Jo?" Scotty asked. "I would have thought she'd be home by now."

"Oh. She's gone out to the movies with her boyfriend."

Scotty was startled. "No, no, no. That's can't be. My baby sister isn't old enough to be going out with boys. She's supposed to be playing with Betsy Wetsy."

"They grow up so fast," Kelly commiserated with obviously very little sympathy given the smile on his face.

Scotty felt his own smile fade as he looked at his mother. She seemed strangely distracted and...off. Somehow. He shrugged it away as just her being thrown off by their surprise visit.

"That's too bad she's not here, though," Kelly was saying as they sat down at the table. "I was looking forward to finally meeting her."

Mom smiled at him wanly. "She'll be back soon, I'm sure," she reassured him.

"Is everything okay, Mom?" Scotty finally asked, concerned. He reached out his hand to touch her arm, trying to steady her.

She smiled more warmly at him and held his hand. "I'm fine, son. Just tired. My arthritis has been acting up. But I'm just so glad you're here now." She moved towards the kitchen. "I'm afraid I don't have much ready, since I wasn't expecting company, but I have some leftover ham. And there should be some greens from last night still."

"Mom, if you're not feeling well, let me--" Scotty started.

"Nonsense, Alexander. You sit down and let me get you something to eat. You two must be starved." Without further argument she went into the kitchen.

"Does she look alright to you?" Scotty asked worriedly.

"She's fine, man. Relax. Like she said, she's just tired and surprised about us being here."

"Hm. Yeah," Scotty said, not particularly assured.

After that, things went kind of downhill, what with Tommy showing up and Scotty trying to go off without Kelly, which thoroughly pissed Kelly off. On the other hand, once your family has been held hostage by an old childhood friend, a visit home has nowhere else to go but up.

The day they were to leave, Scotty found himself sitting in his sister's bedroom talking with her, giving Kelly the opportunity to have the heart-to-heart with Mom Scotty knew he needed.

"You know what your problem is, big brother?" Jo asked, out of the blue, seeming both irritated and amused. "You always think you're smarter than everyone else."

"I've got news for you, little sister," Scotty said with a smile and a tug at her hair. "I usually am smarter than everyone else."

She was apparently unimpressed. Actually, she snorted. "So you say."

"Well, since I am the smartest person currently around, who would know better than me?" he asked. She snorted again.

"You aren't even second place, Mr. Genius," she said sarcastically, and he got the idea he was missing something.

Scotty figured this was about earlier with Tommy. What else could it be. He'd thought for years about what he would tell his mother and sister about what he did someday if it could no longer be avoided. Logically, he'd always assumed he would never have to: he was most likely going to die somewhere on the other side of the world, and they would be told it was a tragic car accident. If they were told anything at all, as sometimes might happen on particularly delicate cases. The truth was, he and Kelly might on day just disappear, the only thing to mark their passing a line on some back sports page mentioning the tennis player and his trainer who were missing.

It was a horrible thought, that he would die and they would never even know what happened to him, but it was a fact of life with them. He'd set up with the agency a trust for his family, if anything should ever happen to him, that they would get all his death benefits under the guise of some sweepstakes. Jo would be able to finish school, at the very least, and his mother would never want for anything for the rest of her days. It was the only comfort he had when he pictured his mother sitting in her apartment, waiting by the phone for a call that would never come.

He thought now of what he should tell them. Did he have the right to worry them, on the off chance things wen the worst way possible? At least then they would have had some idea, and they'd both know the whats and the whys. Didn't they both deserve the truth after the last two days?

Yes, they did. He shouldn't tell them anything, it was against every rule. He knew, though, that the second he looked into his mother's face, the moment he touched her before leaving her again he was going to crack. But he couldn't say everything more than once. Couldn't break his oath more than that. Besides, he still didn't know how to say any of it without sounding like a bad James Bond movie.

"What do you think of Kelly?" Scotty asked her instead, changing the subject.

"I think he's gay," she said without turning around.

Scotty blinked for several seconds, completely at a loss. "Why would you say something like that?" he asked her.

"He smells too good," she said not looking at him.

"I didn't know there was a smell test." This was why he'd left home, he remembered. Little sisters were more trouble than learning Arabic.

"Also, he dresses to good, and Sandra said that's a sure sign in white guys," she pointed out.

"Suddenly I don't feel so smart," he admitted. "Because I have nothing to say to that."

"Plus he was looking at your butt when you got up to pay the tab in the bar," she said blandly.

He did a complete double take that time, then narrowed his eyes when she burst out laughing at him.

"Oh, Genius, you should see your face," she gasped out between giggles.

"Come here so I can smack you," he said and reached towards her.

***

Kelly looked up from his plate sharply when a squeal came through the closed bedroom door. For a moment, he almost reached for his gun, alert for the possibility that Tommy had another associate waiting in the wings.

"Those two," Mom said, shaking her head and smiling. "No matter how old they get they turn into children once you put them in the same room together for five minutes."

Kelly relaxed as laughter came from the room and Mom remained calmly at the table. Obviously this was SOP in the Scott household.

"Well, you know, Scotty's not exactly as much of a grown-up as you might think, Mom," he teased, taking another bite of pie.

"And you two," she said, both reproachful and affectionate as she patted his arm. "You're as bad as Alexander is with his sister."

"Certainly," he agreed. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, but Kelly noted the weariness Mom was obviously trying to hide. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked her. "Yesterday was--"

"I'm fine, Kelly," she interrupted to reassure him. "I've faced down bigger bullies than Tommy Merrow in my life."

Kelly had no doubt that this was true. "This hasn't exactly been the kind of surprise visit we had in mind," he admitted.

"Now don't you go blaming yourself for something you had no control over," she insisted. "Life's full enough of hardships you have to take responsibility for as it is."

"True enough," he agreed sincerely, feeling his own weariness creep into his contentment as he thought about the last few months.

"What about you, Kelly?" she asked him quietly, looking at him with the intensity that he always shied away from. It was those special powers again. She always seemed to know far more, see more than he ever meant her to. "Are you alright?"

Kelly acted shocked. "Me? I'm fine. Why would you ask?"

"You seem...tired, somehow. Worn out."

He knew it was useless to hide from her. "It's been a tough year," he admitted.

"I wish Alexander would take better care of you," she said. He could see her building up some steam for a serious scolding that would be aimed at her eldest son. Normally, Kelly would have enjoyed sitting back and watching that, but he was reluctant after recent events.

"He takes care of me more than I deserve," he said, equally quiet. More seriously than he'd meant to sound.

Mom looked at him for a long, intense moment, then chided him, "Nonsense. He loves you."

It was said so casually, so surely, he blinked. "Only because he has to," Kelly half-heartedly joked.

Mom was not so easily distracted. "You're family. Family takes care of each other. Didn't anyone teach you that?"

Hew was quiet for a long time, unable to look at her, afraid that this sudden, unexpected conversation would break him. "A long time ago," he said, barely above a whisper.

Kelly thought he was fine. Even after these past six months, with all the turmoil and chaos, for the most part he was. He was sleeping better at night and he moved easily, none of the scars or internal injuries impeding his movements much. But he'd seen enough men during and after combat to know not all the wounds were readily apparent. Not everything got healed when the body did.

"Then it's a good thing you have us to show you again," she said firmly, kissing his forehead as she took his plate away.

The only thing that let him keep it together was Scotty and his sister spilling into the room, mid-argument.

***

Later that night, back at the hotel room where they were supposed to be sleeping in preparation for their early morning flight, Scotty lay on his bed contemplating the ceiling. "You sure she knew?" he asked the light fixture, his brow furrowing.

A huge sigh came from the other bed. "Yes, she knew, you nitwit. You think Mom is that stupid?"

He rubbed his face with his hands, then turned onto his side. "Course not. I just never thought of her as the James Bond type."

This time the sound was a familiar laugh. "Get with it, Ian. Mom could kick James's pampered ass."

Scotty grinned into the darkness. "You got that right. I loved her wailing on that guy."

Really, seeing his mother beat on a thug who had been holding her hostage for days really shouldn't have been as fun as it was. It should have been unnerving and terrifying. All it had been was liberating.

Tommy aside, he felt better than he had in weeks. As if he'd shed a weight he hadn't known was there. Kelly looked better than he had in months, which he was more than willing to attribute to Mom. He was glad he'd thought of that trip home.

***

Scotty's worrying about his mom and his own conversation with her earlier in the day had the unfortunate consequence of leaving Kelly wide awake while Scotty drifted peacefully off to sleep. The fink.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling, and contemplated what he always thought about whenever they visited Mom: Home, love, and one Alexander Scott. He found himself thinking about how, right after she'd greeted them both with hugs and plates of food, she'd asked if either of them was seeing anyone. This had immediately brought Sam to mind, and his face must have showed something -- or Scotty just knew, as he normally did -- because Scotty immediately distracted her with a story about this schoolteacher he'd met in Malta a few months before.

Kelly loved sex, and he loved women, and they were great in combination. His flings with men were more casual, but more complicated, and rarely so carefree. There was no expectation of commitment, and next to no worry the sex would be seen as a prelude to more than a friendly encounter, but the risks were higher, and eventually the scales tipped towards women. They were socially safer, if emotionally more complicated.

More complicated was an understatement, he thought bitterly, desperately turning his mind away again from thoughts of Sam. More complicated -- except when compared to one particular man.

It would have taken a much straighter man than Kelly Robinson not to notice the attractiveness of Alexander Scott. In the beginning, he'd noticed it a lot. Then they got to know each other, slowly growing past their initial rivalry at training, and Kelly found he liked Scotty. At first, that had just made the physical attraction more intense, which would have been fine if Scott didn't read as the straightest man ever to walk the straight and narrow.

Kelly had never bothered to hide that part of himself, and Scotty had never acted like it was that big of a deal. He'd seemed awkward about the news at first, but never hostile, and when it became clear Kelly wasn't going to jump him, the whole thing became moot and faded into the background of their friendship, never to be spoken of.

Then they had received their permanent assignments and covers: tennis bum and his trainer, traveling the world together. For the job and his own sanity, he pushed that attraction aside. He needed Scotty more as a friend and a partner than he needed the complication of anything more, even were Scotty willing. He fell in love enough with women he couldn't have. No sense falling in love with someone who could never love him: the one man he needed and who needed him.

Kelly turned on his side and looked over at the faint outline of deeper darkness on the other bed. If he thought about Scotty in passing, when he kissed someone or yearned for something more, no need for anyone to know but himself. All the secrets he carried, he figured this one wouldn't break him.

Finally he closed his eyes, slowly drifting off, feeling oddly more content than he'd been in a long while.

***

One year later

It was their first vacation in over a year, and there was no doubt where they were headed. Sun and sand could only take you so far; Mom's mashed potatoes would take you all the way.

Kelly had fought this, at first, without even knowing why. When Scotty suggested it, he felt that initial warming he always did when he thought of seeing Mom and Jo, but then he got this cold thrill of fear down his back. He'd come up with a number of excuses, each lamer than the last, before Scotty finally confronted him.

"You know, she's not going to get hurt just because we go to see her," he'd said to his socks as he pulled them on.

"What have you been smoking, Jack?" Kelly asked, bewildered, since they'd just been discussing his last match and the mission before it. "I told you not to take any of those funny cigarettes from strangers."

"I'm talking about Mom," Scotty said bluntly. "I'm talking about your aunt and uncle."

Kelly stopped. The thought of his aunt and uncle and the danger they'd put them in by hiding out on their farm still made him go white as a sheet when he thought about it. They were his last relatives, as far as he knew, and he'd nearly gotten them killed just by existing. What right did he have to bring that kind of chaos down on them? People he hadn't known since he was a boy. People he swore after they walked away never to go near again, much as he might want to.

And Mom... Mom had already become victim to their jobs. She was in just as much danger every time they went to see her, if not more.

"Look, man, I get it," Scotty said quietly, putting on his shoes. "You don't want to see them again, I get it. It was a bad situation that went down. You don't want to talk about it, that's fine, too."

"I just..." Kelly trailed off, since he didn't know just what it was. "I think it's a bad idea. It's...dangerous."

"Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know. I read the manual, too," Scotty said from behind him. "But life is dangerous, Stanley. You think my mom never faced danger in her life?"

That was a point, but Kelly couldn't think of anything to say, unable to shake the feeling of impending loss.

"Look, there's a lot of reasons I can't walk away," Scotty said.

Kelly could tell he'd thought about it. How couldn't he have? If love was verboten in their profession, it was all kinds of love, not just romantic. These ties were tighter than all the rest put together, and all the more dangerous for it. He had to have considered what it might do to his mother before he even got into the profession. He had to have thought what it meant to stay so connected with her.

"There's lots of reasons why I won't let you do it, either."

That surprised Kelly enough to make him look up.

"She's not going to be around forever, Kel," Scotty said, looking slightly lost at the thought. "And Jo will be moving on soon, out on her own, into the world. Which is good, and Mom wouldn't expect her to stay, but... I can't just leave her alone like that. To wonder what happened to me -- to let her leave this world all alone."

Kelly looked down, slightly ashamed of his own fear.

"Besides, you think she'd let me?" Scotty said with a smile. "You know she'd hunt me down just to find out if I was eating my vegetables."

Kelly smiled back, knowing the argument was decided. "Which, of course, you never do."

"Do we even know each other? I eat my vegetables all the time!"

***

"How long are you boys here for this time?" Mom asked as they finished dinner.

"We have a plethora of free time this time around," Kelly gushed, pleased with himself. "You have us for three full days before we have to head back to Las Vegas."

"True, true," Scotty concurred, and she smiled at them as if they had told her some delightful news and offered them more ham.

Jo snorted, but didn't say anything after the look Mom gave her. "Is it a new tournament?" Jo asked Kelly instead, leading to a discussion of the rich man holding an exposition next week, and the particularly charming and pretty pilot they both knew who would be coming in to watch it.

After dinner, they felt like two beached whales, but decided they needed to make their excuses to her before going utterly comatose on the couch. Mom would never say so, but she looked exhausted, and they wanted to make sure she was well-rested before they took her out shopping the next day.

"I don't see why you don't stay here," she was saying as they got up to grab their coats.

"Well, we promised this friend of ours--nice gentleman, very rich--" Kelly editorialized, "we promised him that we would stay in his brand new hotel in Philadelphia the next time we were in town. We couldn't refuse him."

She seemed to reluctantly accept this. "Well, bundle up well, boys," Mom said as she walked them to the door.

Kelly laughed a little. "It's May, Mom. I think we'll be okay," he said kindly.

"Still, it gets cooler here at night," she said, and made sure his brown scarf looped just right.

Scotty leaned down to give her a goodnight kiss on the cheek. It had startled him, when they'd gotten in and first seen her, how much older she'd looked than the last time they were here. She was the same striking and strong women she'd always been, but he couldn't help thinking that she seemed more fragile than even a year ago. Had her hair been that gray before? Had she had all those wrinkles? Had she always moved that slowly? Scotty had been feeling his own aches in new places, aware that he was getting older. He knew his mother was getting older, as well.

What neither of them had been willing to tell her, because it would just make her dig her heels in more, was that they knew how much of a strain on her it was when they stayed in the small apartment. She would get up early to make breakfast and clean. She would probably get very little sleep at night worrying about whether or not they were sleeping well. The strain was more than she should have to deal with these days, they agreed, and opted for the hotel instead, despite knowing she would protest. That she didn't protest more was startling to Scotty, even as it confirmed they made the right choice.

So, yes, he knew his mother was getting older. He'd just never thought of her as being old. Somehow, though, the evidence of his mother's age hit him harder than his own discovery of a gray hair or two, or watching Kelly move around more slowly in the mornings than he used to.

He didn't let any of that show on his face, and he and Kelly walked out, finding a taxi back to the hotel fairly quickly.

Scotty couldn't help noticing that over the years, his mother's questions about him finding a nice girl had slowed to a trickle, as if she had all but given up on the idea that Scotty would provide her with grandchildren. She seemed to be more worried that he was alone, that he needed to have someone there with him. When she'd asked this time, he'd pointed out that he wasn't alone. He had Kelly. He'd expected her to say something, about it not being the same, about needing a woman in his life, but she'd just looked at him with an odd expression and changed the subject. She really confused him sometimes.

Scotty himself was starting to wonder if he was meant to find that one woman to share his life with. It had been a while since he'd even thought about getting serious with a woman, and he supposed it was odd, but he didn't really miss it.

After all, he had Kelly.

He must have been too quiet, too long, because Kelly nudged him with his arm. "Thinking deep thoughts, mastermind?" he asked with a smile.

"Always," Scotty agreed, then lapsed into silence again.

"Hey, hey, Einstein, what's with the long face?" Kelly asked, still lightly, but with a slight frown of concern on his face.

"Nothing, man. My face is the length it has always been," he insisted.

Kelly made a production of examining it. "Hm. Looks slightly elongated to me."

"Sorry, El Greco. I'll have you know I'm perfectly proportioned," he said smugly.

Kelly laughed disbelievingly, and they jokingly argued as the taxi dropped them off and they made their way back up to the room.

It was still early, and their room was large enough that they decided to push the furniture against the walls and try sparring.

They tried to keep it light, more moving around to warm up and keep limber than anything else. They agreed without saying anything that they would keep the throws to a minimum, since they weren't on the bottom floor and didn't want to disturb the people below them.

Scotty found himself really looking at Kelly. While they both were showing marks of having been in their business for a while, and they were both tired after the events of the last year, Kelly seemed happier than he had in ages. More relaxed than Scotty could ever remember seeing him.

He was apparently paying more attention to Kelly's face and mental status than he was to his body, because the next thing he knew he was flat on his back with Kelly pinning him.

"That was cheating," Scotty insisted, trying to get his wind back.

"In what way did I cheat?" Kelly said affronted, but still grinning.

"I don't know, but I'm sure you did," he insisted, looking up into his friend's face.

Kelly was smiling down at Scotty in such a warm, uncomplicated way, and Scotty wanted to freeze the moment, wanted to always keep Kelly like that, happy and unshadowed by all the things which too often sent him spiraling downward.

Maybe that was why he leaned up and kissed Kelly.

Kelly froze, but before Scotty could pull away, Kelly grabbed at him like a man drowning -- or a man euphoric after learning to swim.

It wasn't long, though, before Kelly himself pulled back. Not far, but far enough to ask, "Why now?"

Scotty wasn't clear on that himself. "You're beautiful when you laugh," he said, hoping it sounded like a joke even if it was true. He'd always known Kelly worked better on instinct. Who knew all Scotty had to do to make the right call was just to let go and stop thinking? "Because we're the only ones we can count on. Because you're my family," he started. "Because it means the same thing to both of us now." He was trying to put into words something he'd never let himself think about much. "Because it doesn't mean anything more than what it is. Because you're not wasted, and I'm not hurt, and neither of us have been talking about going on the run because someone else died. Because you're happy and I'm happy and I think this would make us both even happier."

"We'll be a regular laughing academy," Kelly said, grinning broadly, eyes smiling back at him as he leaned forward for another kiss, letting Scotty roll him onto his back.

***

This was what he'd always wanted. Scotty above him, Scotty under him. Warm, dark skin contrasting with his own, gliding against his own, so that all he felt, all that was there in his senses as they moved across the floor to the bed, was Alexander Scot.

Kelly wanted to consume him, make Scotty a part of himself and never let him go. This wasn't a new feeling for Kelly. He'd wanted that with Sam, and with Tatia, and with one or two others. But Scotty was the one person he knew was strong enough to give Kelly what he wanted and what he needed. Strong enough to fill Kelly to the brim and still have enough to stand on his own two feet. Two feet that could and would be used to kick him, as necessary. Kelly knew Scotty could do it because he'd already done it.

Maybe there was something to these long courtships after all.

***

Scotty knew this body better than any other. He'd stroked his hands over this skin, applying liniment to tennis-sore muscles and kicked-in ribs. He'd laughed at Kelly over skinned knees from missed shots on a clay court as he helped clean him up, and talked to him, trying to keep him awake while treating that bullet hole in his shoulder, ignoring the far messier, though less serious head wound. He'd known this body, whole and broken, just like he knew the man.

He had never let himself touch it like this, though. Never let himself want it. He'd never let his fingers linger against skin to feel the warmth, or the pull of hair against his own calluses. Now he followed the flow of muscles tense not with pain or anger, but anticipated pleasure.

This was surreal. He knew everything and nothing about this body. He knew this situation, but Kelly was nothing like a woman, and Scotty had no idea what to do, instinct and need taking over when his thoughts couldn't follow. Where he was used to soft curves were angles and planes. The sweet floral smell of perfume was replaced with the familiar tang of Kelly's cologne and sweat. The moans were deeper, yet also familiar, having been heard from a foot away on some of their wilder double dates. Scotty's senses were inflamed and confused, all at once. He was made awkward by the familiar and unfamiliar colliding, which was probably the only reason he hadn't gone off like a rocket already.

***

Kelly moaned into his pillow as lips and a tongue traced his spine, hands larger than his own holding him down -- as if there were a chance in hell he'd run away.

He might float away, he thought, but he didn't think he'd be able to run any time soon.

He reveled in this, in the familiar touch and unfamiliar sensuality, adding to the intimacy they normally shared. He was used to being at the center Scotty's not inconsiderable attention, and resented it whenever someone else tried to steal into their orbit.

He waited as long as he could, then turned over to do some touching of his own. He rolled them over and grappled at the flesh beneath him, pressing sucking kisses down Scotty's breastbone, his lips brushing against the tight curls dusting the chest, until he realized how tense the body beneath him was -- and not with pleasure.

"Hey, Jack, don't freak out on me now," Kelly said with a smile down at Scotty, but not even trying to hide his anxiety. "Second thoughts?" he asked because he had to, hating himself for it, ready to hate Scotty more if he had to back off.

Scotty looked slightly dazed and still a little unsure. "No, man, no. Just..." he trailed off for a second, then relaxed slightly. "It's just... You're a lot stronger than my usual dance partners."

Kelly softened his smile. There was no rejection in that voice, just nerves. Nerves he could deal with.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he responded, backing off slightly and falling to the bed on Scotty's right. He made sure they were still touching as much as possible, propping his head on his hand and smiling at Scotty as if they were on lounge chairs by the hotel pool. "I seem to recall that lovely young woman Mom set you up with last spring."

"Bertha," Scotty said ruefully, relaxing even more.

"Yes, that was the vision of loveliness's name," Kelly agreed.

"I think she could have bench pressed you," Scotty recalled.

"I'd have been putty in her hands."

Scotty relaxed the rest of the way and gave him a stern look. "Just so you know, Don Juan, bringing up my mom doesn't really help the mood here."

Kelly felt his smile warm and deepen as he remembered the most important reason he had always wanted to be here: because this was Scotty. "Oh, really, Stanley. What would help the mood?"

Which was when Scotty pulled him down into another kiss.

***

Scotty was almost afraid of his own hunger, now that he'd let it loose. He pushed Kelly beneath him and ran his teeth along Kelly's left pectoral muscle, licking and biting at a knife scar.

He wanted to eat Kelly whole. He realized why he'd waited until now to do this: Because now he knew Kelly wouldn't let him. Kelly was strong enough and able enough to not let Scotty away with too much, with taking too much.

Scotty ran his hand under Kelly's right thigh and pushed it up, getting a better angle for them both as he rubbed down, and up, pushing their hips together, firm and unafraid of hurting the man beneath him. Kelly groaned, his head thrown back in pleasure, and Scotty thought again, so briefly before the sensation took him back away, that this was the moment he wanted to always keep, right beside his mental picture of Kelly laughing in the sun: Kelly so uncomplicatedly happy.

He went with his urge to thrust again and let himself be happy for once, too.

***

"One thing, though," Scotty said, starting to fall asleep.

"Hm?" Obviously Kelly wasn't too far behind him.

"You get to explain to my mother why she won't be getting grandchildren," Scotty said into the darkness.

"Hm. Wait, what?" Kelly sounded only slightly more awake, though far more indignant. "Why do I have to tell her?"

"Because you're the one who corrupted her baby boy," Scotty told him.

"Hm. Well, she still has Jo," Kelly pointed out before they both drifted off to sleep.

***

Thirty-some years later

"Well, it's about time, Stanley, " he heard from the shadows of the warehouse. "What the hell took you so long?"

Kelly smiled at the man in front of him. He hadn't changed, not really. The gray hairs might be multiplying at a massive rate, and the waistline was not what it used to be, but the eyes were the same, and the voice and the hands and the laugh. What more did he need?

"Sorry about that, Livingston," Kelly answered easily. "Had to get rid of a psychic first."

Scotty looked at him as if he'd known all those hits to the head over the years were going to cause damage, eventually. "I'm assuming you're going to explain that, and you're not just going senile."

Kelly laughed and placed a hand on his arm. Later, there would be more. When they had time and rest and room to breathe. Mom was long gone now, but her sister's place, the one in Ohio, was empty and waiting for them, as it had been for years. Just waiting for them to get things settled and ready.

"Later, Jack. We've got miles to go before we sleep."

"Quite the poet you are in your old age," Scotty said happily as they left the past behind.


End file.
